Make it a double

I was lulled into thinking donating platelets was a piece of cake, a fantasy I created when my first donation only took 47 minutes. I did not realize the blood bank had discovered I was good for double platelets. Just like tax bracket creep, my time on the machine expanded to 70 minutes. I can accept that. But this time, I was on the machine for two hours.

This is my arm Day 4 after donating double platelets. I'm keeping this photograph so I can ask for the very best sticker at the Blood Bank next time. With this evidence, I am sure I will get Patrice.

Patrice took over after I had been on the machine about an hour and a half. We had plenty of time to chat about my chart. Patrice, who considers herself a good "sticker", said I should ask for her next time, since she was the one who finished me in 47 minutes.

Bruises aside, I'm still going to do it again. First, somebody needs my platelets. Second, I get my cholesteral count, which is 213 not on medication (whoo hoo!!! keep on with the power food breakfast!) and second, with doubles I am racking up the points. Just wait till you see the Christmas gifts I am picking out for you with my Blood Bank rewards points. Hope you all like the Blood Bank logo.

Naked Truth

Some things are better done naked. Aside from the obvious.

For example, it's good to be naked when using bleach. I was reminded of this today as I sprayed bleach on the grout lines in the shower. I was also reminded how many spotted clothes I own by the end of a summer in the RV, where adding a little bleach to the water tank is my job, and a job I can't do naked. Well, I could, but that might make for a very short stay in that campsite. It's possible I could even be whisked away to Ranger jail. I can't even imagine the penalty for being naked on National Park properties.

Besides being naked for bleaching, consider dog washing. There's a job with no rewards that I know of for staying clothed. The clothes are soaked, if not from the runaway shower spray, then for certain from the dog's great fur shakedown during and after the bath.

Another ideal spot for being naked is a hot tub. Who wants a stretched out parboiled swimsuit?

What say you? What's your naked secret?

How I would look if I were a doctor

 

Nancy looks more official, I think, with the pens in her pocket. They definitely say research.

I am surprised how good we look after two days on our feet in the testing kitchen. I was not made for this job, not at my age for sure. This experience made weekend long campouts with 15 girlscouts seem trivial.

We had to have 8 beans and rices, 10 meats, 5 cheeses, 15 chopped "veggies", secret sauces and salsas, tortillas, chips....I get tired again just thinking of this....hot or cold and labeled and ready for 10 testers to walk through a buffet line at precisely the right moment. It had to look good and feel good. We did this 8 times in two days.

I am still pretty amazed at how good we look at the end of the day. Anyway, walking two days in my nieces shoes, I am glad I did it, and really really glad I don't have to do it every week like she does.

If you read chapter one, you can read it all now. Vote for my book before November 9 in the Blurb contest

Lost and Found...

By Margaret Lincoln

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Not boring

If I were to sum up my memories of Audrey Fox Lincoln, it would be in these two words: "not boring."

We don't get to choose the family members that come to us by marriage. But sometimes we get lucky. I got my husband's dad, Fred, the father-love of my life, and his wife, Audrey.

Coming to the family late in its history, when Carl was almost 40 and Fred's second marriage to Audrey was seasoned by many years, I had none of the usual family pathos, complications or expectations to color my experience. Preparing me for my first visit with his dad and stepmother, Carl just said, "Audrey's Audrey." I already knew he owed her a debt for re-establishing communication with his father. They had been estranged for at least ten years when Fred and Audrey married. She was their mediator.

I soon learned what he meant by "Audrey's Audrey." Unique. Opinionated. Verbally opinionated. Loving Audrey could be like loving a porcupine. On the flip side, she was: Intelligent. Well read. Informed. Interested in your family as well as hers. Had a memory for things important. Not boring.

Not boring. I wouldn't mind if that was written as my epitaph. So much goes into those words. She was a great conversationalist. A reasonable card player, but not as good as she thought. An incredible writer. Sometimes when I write, I think about her long journals, all hand written, on the trips she and Fred took to the far parts of the earth, sometimes on a freighter, sometimes a river boat, sometimes with elder hostel or Rotary. Sometimes I think about her when I plan the far parts of the earth I still want to visit. She was at least my age when I met her, going with gusto. She made me excited at what still lies ahead.

Audrey and I shared a silly game, sending each other mystery cooking gadgets in the mail. Once I sent her a garlic peeler, a tube that looked like a large plastic Manicotti. She wrote a note. "We think it is a sex toy, and goodness knows we can use all the help we can get. Tim and Candace have one too, and theirs smells strangely like garlic." I think about Audrey when I peel garlic.

She planned to live a long time. Why else would she go to Jazzercise class in her 80's? Or do a daily crossword puzzle? And she did live a long time, two days past her 93rd birthday. In the last two years, I have seen her three times. Since she lives over 1000 miles away, that says something about how much I valued her friendship. I knew the last visit I would not see her again, not in this world. She rose to the occasion of lunch, but that was all the gusto she had.

What do I wish? I wish I had taken off from work all day every day when she and Fred would visit. Then I would have had many more rounds of bridge to remember. When she didn't get good cards, she would say loudly "BORING!" (Actually, Audrey was often loud, a product of being half deaf.) I wish I had lived closer, so I could have attended cultural events with her. In her later years, I could have driven her to them. I could have gone to Jazzercise with her, joined her bridge group, her book club. I could have watched her role model for an active retired life. And it would never, never, never have been boring.

Guys in Tuxes

There's nothing quite so handsome as young men 6 foot 5 and over wearing tuxes. The excitement of the groom in this photo is created by the sight of a drop dead gorgeous bride walking down the aisle toward him.

What I will remember most about this wedding are two things: getting to kiss the handsome groomsman who happens to be my godson,

and the groom's father's toast.

I'll try to paraphrase:

Two things.

My parents have never been close to me. They moved to Wyoming, for heavens sake. But when I married your mother, I also got  her bazooka of a father and her fashionista mother. They took me in and treated me as one of their own. They never took sides in any of our issues. They lived three hours away, and we visited them often. I went because I wanted to. They are both gone now, and I miss them both terribly.

Your mom and I are 1100 miles away. But you have a new family now, living right here close to you. It is an incredible opportunity. Love them, cherish them, spend time with them.

Second thing. In your married life, there will be many happy occasions, many ups and downs. But for me, marriage is all about the extraordinary moments. My first extraordinary moment was in 1980 when you were born. It was then that I realized, this thing is bigger than the both of us. So too in your marriage, the time will come when you will stop and say, this is incredible. Look forward to those extraordinary moments.

59 years 6 months

Among my peer group of baby boomer friends, I am one of the "older" ones.  Nevertheless it may surprise you to realize that I am able now to take money out of my IRA without penalty. As with most discoveries, it is a mixed blessing.

In keeping with the theme of aging, I feel compelled to share with you that I visited the social security office today. It's been on my to-do-list for years, this visit, to correct my birth date. I discovered in filing income taxes online that my birth date is incorrect with Social Security, and frankly, I've had enough lying about my age in order to file online. Besides, I'm quite sure I won't be able to apply for social security a year early just because the Social Security Administration currently thinks I was born in 1949, not 1950.

Carl will be interested to know that marrying him aged me, because it was my name change in 1983 that triggered this error. I was born in 1950 until then.

I was under the wrong impression that after changing my birthday, I could leave my birth certificate with them and file online when the time comes.  Not so.  I have to go in person again when I want benefits.  Phooey to a wasted morning.  I could have lived with lying about my age a few more years if I had realized I could not multi-task my visit.

After I changed my birthday (and felt instantly a year younger), I decided to check a few facts. This only took two more hours of waiting, luckily with a good book to read.

Here are the facts I confirmed today.

Fact # 1. Early retirement is still age 62.
Fact # 2. Medicare is still age 65.
Fact # 3. Deferred retirement is still age 70.

So the only thing that has changed for us baby boomers is normal retirement age, currently age 66 for me.

So, do you want to guess the penalties and benefits of going on the dole early or late? 32% penalty for going early, 32% benefit for waiting till 70. I don't understand the math, but the difference between early at 62 and deferred at 70 is 75%. My brain is hurting trying to figure the rate of return for waiting 4 years or 8 years....but I'll come back with that later if I develop confidence in my calculations.

All that said, I am thinking that before I see a nickel at any age, all the rules will have changed. But today I feel really American. I've stood in line at Social Security.